"Faster, coachman, faster!" I shouted to the jack. He even jumped and swung his whip. For I shouted quite wildly.
"We'll fight at dawn, that's settled. It's all over with the department. Ferfichkin said de pot ment earlier instead of department. But where to get the pistols? Nonsense! I'll take an advance on my salary and buy them. And the powder, and the bullets? That's the second's affair. But how will I manage it all before dawn? And where will I find a second? I have no acquaintances… Nonsense!" I cried, whirling myself up even more, "nonsense! The first passer-by I speak to in the street is duty-bound to be my second, just like pulling a drowning man from the water. The most eccentric situations must be allowed for. Were I to ask even the director himself to be my second tomorrow, he, too, would have to agree out of knightly feelings alone, and keep the secret! Anton Antonych…"
The thing was that at the same moment I could see, more clearly and vividly than anyone else in the entire world, the whole, most odious absurdity of my suppositions, and the whole other side of the coin, but…
"Faster, coachman, faster, you rogue!"
"Eh, master!" said the backbone of the nation.
I suddenly felt cold all over.
"And wouldn't it be better… better… to go straight home now? Oh, my God! Why, why did I invite myself to this dinner yesterday! But no, impossible! And that three-hour stroll from table to stove? No, they, they and no one else, must pay me for that stroll! They must wash away that dishonor!"
"Faster!"
"And what if they take me to the police? Would they dare? They'd be afraid of a scandal. And what if Zverkov should refuse the duel out of contempt? That's even certain; but then I'll prove to them… Then I'll rush to the posting-house as he's leaving tomorrow, I'll grab him by the leg, I'll tear his overcoat off as he's getting into the coach. I'll fasten my teeth on his hand, I'll bite him. 'See, all of you, what a desperate man can be driven to!' Let him beat me on the head, and the rest of them from behind. I'll cry out to all the public: 'See, here's a young pup going off to charm the Circassian girls with my spit on his face!'
"After that, of course, everything's over! The department has vanished from the face of the earth. I'll be seized, I'll be taken to court, I'll be thrown out of work, put in prison, sent to Siberia, exiled. Who cares! Fifteen years later I'll drag myself after him, in rags, a beggar, when I'm let out of prison. I'll find him somewhere in a provincial capital. He'll be married and happy. He'll have a grown-up daughter… I'll say: 'Look, monster, look at my sunken cheeks and my rags! I lost everything -career, happiness, art, science, a beloved woman - and all because of you. Here are the pistols. I've come to discharge my pistol, and… and I forgive you.' Here I'll fire into the air, and - no more will be heard of me…"
I even began to weep, though I knew perfectly well at the same moment that all this came from Silvio and from Lermon-tov's Masquerade. 15 And suddenly I felt terribly ashamed, so ashamed that I stopped the horse, got out of the sled, and stood in the snow in the middle of the street. The jack watched me with amazement and sighed.
What was to be done? To go there was impossible - the result would be nonsense; to leave things as they were was also impossible, because the result would then be… "Lord! How can I leave it! After such offenses! No!" I exclaimed, rushing back to the sled, "it's predestined, it's fate! Drive on, drive on - there!"
And in my impatience I hit the coachman in the neck with my fist.
"What's with you? Why're you punching?" the little peasant cried, lashing the nag, however, so that she started kicking with her hind legs.
Wet snow was falling in thick flakes; I uncovered myself, I didn't care about it. I forgot everything else, because I had finally resolved on the slap and felt with horror that it would happen without fail now, presently, and that no power could stop it. Desolate street-lamps flashed sullenly in the snowy haze, like torches at a funeral. Snow got under my overcoat, my jacket, my necktie, and melted there; I didn't cover myself; all was lost in any case! We drove up at last. I jumped out, almost unconscious, ran up the steps, and began knocking at the door with my hands and feet. My legs especially were growing weak, at the knees. The door was opened somehow quickly; as if they knew I was coming. (Indeed, Simonov had forewarned them that there might be one more, and they had to be forewarned there and generally to take precautions. This was one of those "fashion shops" of the time, which have long since been done away with by the police. During the day it was actually a shop; and in the evening those who had references could come and visit.) I walked with quick steps through the dark store into the familiar drawing room, where only one candle was burning, and stopped in perplexity: no one was there.
"Where are they?" I asked someone.
But, of course, they had already had time to disperse…
In front of me stood a person with a stupid smile, the hostess herself, who knew me slightly. A moment later the door opened, and another person came in.
Paying no attention to anything, I was pacing the room and, I think, talking to myself. It was as if I had been saved from death, and I joyfully sensed it with my whole being: for I would have slapped him, I would certainly, certainly have slapped him! But now they're not here and… everything's vanished, everything's changed!… I kept looking over my shoulder. I still could not grasp it. Mechanically, I glanced at the girl who had come in: before me flashed a fresh, young, somewhat pale face, with straight dark eyebrows and serious, as if somewhat astonished, eyes. I liked it at once; I would have hated her if she'd been smiling. I began to study her more attentively and as if with effort: my thoughts were not all collected yet. There was something simple-hearted and kind in that face, yet somehow serious to the point of strangeness. I was certain that it was a disadvantage to her there, and that none of those fools had noticed her. However, she could not have been called a beauty, though she was tall, strong, well built. She was dressed extremely simply. Something nasty stung me; I went straight up to her…
By chance I looked in a mirror. My agitated face seemed to me repulsive in the extreme: pale, wicked, mean, with disheveled hair. "Let it be; I'm glad of it," I thought, "I'm precisely glad that I'll seem repulsive to her; I like it…"
VI
…Somewhere behind a partition, as if under some strong pressure, as if someone were strangling it, a clock wheezed.
After an unnaturally prolonged wheeze, there followed a thin, vile, and somehow unexpectedly rapid chiming - as if someone had suddenly jumped forward. It struck two. I came to my senses, though I had not been asleep, but only lying there half-oblivious.
The room - narrow, small, and low, encumbered by a huge wardrobe, and littered with cartons, rags, and all sorts of castoff clothing - was almost totally dark. The candle-butt burning on the table at the other end of the room was about to go out, barely flickering every now and then. In a few moments it would be quite dark.